Hello! This chapter is a bit more humorous than the others, which is probably a good thing.
One knoll among flooded grassland, two apex predators upon each opposite side of the aforementioned knoll, and one carcass in between them.
That was not a good combination.
Even more so, when said apex predators were as heavily injured such as they were, and thus, lazy.
And grumpy.
And stubborn.
And just plain old.
The pair rested quite a long time, but their fatigued slumber could only be subdued when their stomachs were not rumbling.
And their stomachs were aching, and empty.
Indeed, Roberta did not know how long she slept, but by the time she opened her honey hued eyes, circular pupils adjusting to the red and orange hues of the rising sun peaking over Nublar's forested mountain ranges and turning the soft and fluffy clouds colors of fire, she knew she had slept for far too long.
She slept so much, she was fatigued.
Her muscles were weighted and weak.
Her body felt sluggish.
Her eyes were having difficulty staying open.
She even felt the fatigue in her bones.
When Roberta breathed, it felt as if the damp and earthen air of the former storm was attempting to suffocate her. All she smelled was muddy water, damp earth and decay. Insects were beginning to buzz around her kills, various worms and grubs writhing upon the soaked earth, disturbing the bent grasses. The blood upon her kill long washed away, exposing pale flesh that had yet to be uneaten.
The musk of the storm only appeared to heighten the stench of decay. While to the Queen, it brought a sense of comfort, for when death was thick in the air it meant food was present, the scent was almost too much. It was suffocating, coating her throat and seeming to press against her lungs. The air still sported a thick and heavy atmosphere of high humidity, despite it being so early in the morn.
Perhaps the suffocating air would dissipate in time?
The Queen struggled to rise, her body sore and leg strained. She almost fell as she did so, her toes pressing into the damp earth and uprooting shallow, wiry grasses. Shaking her bulky head in an attempt to regain her bearings, Nublar's Tyrannosaur then began to look around, pupils small and nostrils flaring.
Her rival was still there, on the other side of the knoll.
He was just laying there.
Staring at her.
It was a stare Roberta did not shy away from.
Rather, she stared right back.
A silent war began to ensue between the pair.
Each were attempting to make the other back down. Back away from the carcass that was between them, upon the crest of the knoll.
Roberta's amber eyes narrowed intently upon the Spined Dragon, her pupils small. A heavy snort escaped from her nares, wisps of morning mist escaping from her. A low, guttural growl rippled from her throat, vibrating the air. Her taloned toes dragged against the ground and uprooted the earth with her good leg, as if an angry bull getting ready to charge, her broad jaws snapping shut, an echo ringing out.
The Queen of Nublar was thirsty. Oh, so, very thirsty. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue was parched. The grasslands below the knoll were still flooded in waters yet unsoaked within the earth or driven into the sea. Water was right there, just down below.
But she was not moving.
She was too old, and too lazy.
She did not feel like hobbling down just to get a drink whilst her rival was attempting to steal her kill.
No.
He was not getting her kill.
She was not sharing.
Sorna's Spinosaurus held the Queen's gaze, his emerald eyes gleaning in a sheen of malice and hate. His pupils only narrowed into thin slits akin to a feline. Though he did not bother to rise from his laying position, he did produce a crocodilian hiss from the back of his gullet, scaled throat rumbling and riveting the Queen's attention to him.
His legs shifted and tensed, the Bull ready to rise should the need come.
The Spinosaurus was hungry. Oh, so, very hungry. His stomach was empty, and growling and hurting. The grasslands below the knoll were still flooded in waters housing corpses of the previous predators that attempted to fight him, their bodies beginning to bloat. Food was right there, just down below.
But he was not moving.
He was too old, and too lazy.
He did not feel like meandering down just to get wet and drag the kill onto higher ground whilst his rival was going to eat her kill.
No.
She was not getting to eat her kill.
He was not sharing.
He was not moving.
Not when there was food right next to him.
After what felt like an eternity of intense staring, the Queen moved forth, and clamped her jaws upon her kill, muscles rippling underneath scales as she heaved to pull the corpse away.
Fuck him!
He was not getting her kill!
Upon seeing Nulbar's Rex begin to claim his food, the Bull jolted up and lunged forth, gripping his taloned claws into the flesh of the quarry, his back arching and tail shifting to balance himself as he attempted to rip the prey out of her jaws.
Fuck her!
She was not getting his food!
Sorna's Spinosaurus released a shrill roar, his injured arm nigh useless whilst his other clawed hand desperately dug into the kill, gripping and tearing as he heaved.
Roberta released a muffled growl, her nares flaring. She would have bellowed to him in warning, but her jaws were the only thing keeping him from stealing her kill. It did not help that the Spined Dragon had the advantage in weight, for her injured leg was struggling to keep her footing and fight against him.
But she had the advantage in grip. If she could just...tug hard enough without having her leg fail her, she might be able to win.
Both refused to let go, growls and glaring stares rampant, muscles tense.
The flesh began to tear upon the carcass, and the sound of ligaments beginning to snap and break were heard.
The Bull's jaded eyes hardened.
No!
She was not getting any of his food!
Sorna's Apex Predator then reared his head back, and roughly jabbed Nublar's Queen with the brunt of his more narrow snout.
The jab was rough, and probably hurt the Spinosaurus more than it hurt the Tyrannosaurus, but fuck her!
She was not getting any of his food!
The Bull reared his head back, and stuck again in a flurry of blows that was more akin to an angry woodpecker pecking upon rough bark.
Roberta grunted as her sensitive snout was jabbed again and again and again, her eyes screwing tightly shut for their own protection.
Ow!
Fuck him!
He was not getting her kill!
It was then the Bull jabbed his snout into her injured eye, and the sudden pain caused Roberta to lurch away, and release her grip, shrieking in pain.
The kill was instantly dragged away from her, the Bull releasing a series of chortles in victory.
Ha!
Fuck her!
He won!
Roberta shook her head, pain beginning to dull and her eye reopening. Her golden gaze narrowed upon her rival in a glare.
How dare he!
That was her kill!
Roberta released a huff in rage, which was followed by a snort. She never had her kill stolen before. She always stole other kills.
...This hurt her pride.
The Queen decided the old kill was not worth the effort of straining her leg over to reclaim. Slowly, the old female began to lumber her way down to the flooded grasslands, intent on quenching her thirst. Her gaze fell upon the bloating corpses cast adrift.
Roberta huffed quietly.
At least she could make sure he only got her scraps...
Thank you for reading thus far. I was never expecting this story to be as popular as it is.